Ashes of Our Fathers
by Ticklesivory
Summary: Palpatine is in control, the Jedi Purge has happened, and Obi-Wan has disappeared. Padme is trying to fix things. This is an AOTC/ROTS Obidala AU. Full of suspense, drama, and lots of cliffhangers! :)
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Ashes of Our Fathers

**Author**: Ticklesivory

**Summary**: This story is complicated and I can't really summarize the plot without giving too much away. Let's just say - we're starting off in Coruscant and Sheev Palpatine is up to his usual antics.

**Warnings**: Just the regular stuff. We'll be heading to the Lower Levels of Coruscant later on, so there may be some foul language ahead. And probably some spicy sex stuff. Yea…definitely some of that!

**Disclaimer**: Is this really necessary any more? I'm paid with reader reviews. That's all. Promise!

**Rating**: T+

**Timeline:** Mid to late AOTC time, but I'll be messing with the events and timeline of AOTC and ROTS, so don't freak out. It's intentional.

* * *

"Aw, do you have to leave so early? I thought maybe we could fool around a little bit more."

The sun was just beginning to rise over the city and performed a spectacular light show as it struck and cast starburst patterns off the tall towers outside the window. It was a lovely sight and always brought him a sense of peace. The tone of the voice behind him, however, was enough to really irritate the hell out of him. Especially this early in the morning. She was a good enough looking girl, but she really got on his nerves sometimes. He was thinking he really should cut her loose and contact someone else whenever he felt lonely again.

"I've got to meet with my father," the young man gruffly spoke to the woman sprawled naked behind him. He couldn't actually see the pout of her mouth, but he imagined there was one. "I told you that already!" He nearly shouted out in aggravation as he raked his hands across his scalp. This was one of the reasons he didn't want to be in a relationship! He didn't like explaining to anyone when and where he was going or when he'd be back.

"Don't get angry honey," the young woman crooned. "Let me do that."

He could feel her fingernails gently pull the tangles out of his long hair before she began plaiting it. Thankfully, she was silent as she did so.

"There you go." She patted the braid which lay long against his back. He really should consider getting it trimmed. It was almost at his waist.

Slight guilt edged into the young man's reasoning due to her kindness, and he twisted round to offer her a small smile. "Listen, Tallia. Maybe we can get together sometime after my next mission. I'll contact you later."

"I'm looking forward to it it," she purred, applying her full pursed lips to his own.

He kissed her back but not with much effort. The large amount of cosmetics she had applied to her eyes and mouth the night before had somehow displaced itself during sleep, and her short, blue hair was pointing every direction. She looked absolutely horrid in the morning light.

"Bye." He blurted out, rising quickly from her bed and exiting her apartment. It was nearly 0700 hours and his father had requested his appearance an hour ago. Not one to be kept waiting, Sheev Palpatine had a habit of allowing his temper to get the best of him. But as far as his son was concerned, he seemed able to control himself.

As soon as the young man entered the throne room, his father stood up and greeted him with a kiss to the younger man's bearded cheek.

"Benan, my boy! I'm pleased to see you, although I wish you would've come to me last evening as I requested."

"I was too hung over," Benan honestly replied as they began to stroll through the grand room.

"So, the reports from the outpost on Ord Mantell were correct," the older man spoke while his blue eyes stared out the windows onto the rooftops of Galactic City.

Benan glanced about him. As usual, a few members of the Royal Guard were posted in their normal stations, but nothing to be concerned about. He felt free to speak although he kept his voice low. It was always a good idea to be careful. You never knew who you could trust. His father had taught him that.

"There were remnants of a rebellion there as you suspected," he explained. "A group who called themselves The Shadow Collective. Just a few hundred or so left. They weren't equipped well enough though to put up much of a fight."

"Did you take care of them?"

"Yes, sir. I rounded them up and sent them Dathomir as usual."

"Good," his father chuckled. "I can always count on you Benan. You're a good lad."

As the Emperor spoke, Benan began wondering. In the past few years, he had sent thousands to the prison camps on Dathomir. Surely, they would be running out of room by now. Perhaps he needed to look into that. He should surprise his father; maybe find another planet suitable to house those who oppose their regime and are taken into custody.

"Were there any Jedi?" His father asked next, and Benan couldn't help but notice once again that every time the man spoke the word, it said it with such venom. Rightfully so. The Jedi had caused them nothing but grief for over a generation.

"Not that I'm aware of," Benan assured him. "I mean, there were rumors, but nothing worth pursuing."

"Very well," his father grinned at him. The smile wasn't exactly an expression of pride, or pleasure. It was difficult to define. He hated to think it, but sometimes the face his father wore was almost…malicious.

As soon as the thought entered Benan's mind, so did a spike of pain. It began at the base of his skull and shot straight up to the top of his head. This time, it was strong and caused him to grimace.

"Headache, my boy?" The emperor asked, taking the young man's arm sympathetically and ushering him to a seat. "Perhaps you should see a physician."

"No, I'm all right. Probably just too much alcohol. I just need some more sleep." There was no doubting that. Tallia may be hard on the eyes and her voice could stop a charging Bantha, but she was energetic in the bedroom and kept him on his toes. Literally.

"I insist. But before you go, I need you to do something for me."

"Of course." Benan replied, rubbing his temple as the pain began to subside.

"I've been told of some disturbances in the Lower Levels. Some mild skirmishes amongst the rabble, I thought perhaps you could look into. We are all about keeping the peace across the galaxy, it would be a shame if we couldn't do so in our own home."

'Skirmishes' was likely an understatement. Benan had heard stories about the Lower Levels himself but had never had cause to go there. There was a first time for everything.

"How far down?" He asked.

"About Level 487 I've been told. I'll send some of my personal guards with you."

His Father was about to call forth two men standing by, each covered with red plasteel armor, their faces concealed by helmets, and both holding a force pike. It seemed like overkill to Benan.

"That's all right. I think I can handle a small skirmish," he promised as he rose to take his leave.

"Benan," the emperor called out. "Wear your full armor. I want you to make your presence known, if only to scare some sense into these people."

"Yes, sir." Benan agreed, bowing slightly out of respect before leaving.

His father smiled proudly as he watched the young man go. The smile waned however, as soon as Benan was out of sight.

One of the royal guards stepped up to the emperor's side automatically.

"Follow him, but don't let him see you," the older man growled.

The red-robed soldier bowed curtly and did as he was told.


	2. Chapter 2

**Ashes of Our Fathers: **Chapter Two

* * *

There was plenty to do, and it wouldn't wait on her own exhaustion. Even though she was still young, twenty-two years on her last count, she realized she had established a life which was most likely going to age her quickly. Much like every other female she came into contact with in the Lower Levels of Coruscant. She wasn't sure what exactly caused the rapid decline in health and longevity here; be it the lack of waste containment, or the spread of disease either transmitted via injector swapping, an out-of-control rodent population, or sexual indiscretion. The death toll beneath the street level of the galaxy's capitol city was unacceptable.

And nobody seemed to care.

But then she realized, she once didn't either. Helping those in desperate need down here had not been her initial intention. She came here to start a fight. The grisly plight of the beings in the Lowers, however, inspired her to do something else.

How could she start a rebellion in these conditions? How could she ask others to stand with her and fight when their only concern was fighting to survive?

For the time-being, she lay down her banner of revenge, her hope to once again secure democracy, and she began a different battle; struggling to help those she met.

Many were down here hiding; much like she was. They didn't need her help. They just wanted to be left alone. But there were others who were trapped and couldn't find a way out.

The saddest plight she was aware of was her first stop this morning. It was her newest patient; a Mirialan, named Chara; not yet marked, which bore witness that she had had no formal education or training. Desperate to attain some type of stability and status, she had married a human male. The man had told Chara he was a trader. What he hadn't been truthful about was what he actually traded. Before she realized the trouble she was in, her husband had made a bad spice exchange and had accumulated so much debt, he'd been forced to sell Chara to one of the Lower Level pleasure dens. That was five years ago, and since that time, Chara had become so addicted to spice, she was severely malnourished and had lost most of her hair. As a result, the pleasure den owners had tossed her out, where she made do on anything edible that had been tossed down the garbage pipes from above.

There was very little to be done for Chara other than make sure she had enough to eat, drink, and had a decent place to sleep. The young woman was doing her best to do just that for her, and was grateful for the help she had miraculously gained from above.

An old friend of hers, a restaurant owner, was meeting her later to drop off another crate of supplies. His name was Dexter, a large Besalisk from the Uppers with a heart of gold. Dex never failed to appear at least once a month to deliver anything he could, knowing that if he were caught, it would cost him a hefty fine. Today was delivery day and the young woman was excited to see what delicacies she would be able to share.

"My dear, I was beginning to worry you weren't going to make it today." The length of his four arms wrapped the young woman in a gentle embrace.

"I'm sorry, Dex," the young woman apologized while stepping back. "I helped deliver a baby last night. It took a while and I didn't get much sleep."

The large eyes on the visitor revealed their shared concern. Usually, the birth of a newborn was something to celebrate. Not down here. What it meant down here was another mouth to feed, and a good chance of infant death, if the youngling survived birth at all. Most of the time, newborns were already addicted to spice before they made their first appearance. It saddened her greatly as it did her friend.

"You have a good soul," Dexter told her, his wide, amphibious mouth spreading into a proud grin. "Come, look at what I've brought you."

A large crate was opened and inside was several pieces of over-ripe fruit, half-eaten portions of nerf steak and bags of boiled tubers; loaves of bread with hardly any mold on it, and bottles of water - some not even opened!

"This is wonderful!" she smiled exuberantly upward. "My friends will be so excited! It's been a long time since I've shared bread with them."

"You could stand to eat some of it yourself," Dexter teased. "We can't have you wasting away. You must keep up your health."

"I know," the young woman replied fondly, reaching out to touch the bulk of muscle on one of his arms. "Thanks so much for this. You have no idea how much it means."

"Yes I do. You take care of yourself now. I'll gather what I can and return next month." Dexter and his comrade lumbered off, heading toward the lifts.

The container lid was sealed as the young woman secured it on a small delivery skiff she had borrowed. She also checked the slim blaster concealed within her cloak. There were those who would kill her without a second thought over gaining a small amount of food. But for those she helped, this nourishment might be the difference between life or death. Once she added it to her secret stockpile, she could finally share some decent meals!

The good news provided a boost of energy to her step. She happily waved to a local cantina owner, steering the skiff right into a pile of rusted durasteel. A broad head immediately popped up from behind the metal and the young woman knew she had made a critical error.

"Hey," a gruff voice grumbled as he stepped out, towering over her small frame. "Watch where you're going!"

"I'm sorry sir," she lowered her eyes and stepped to the side, only to be stopped again by a tight grip on her upper arm.

"Not so fast," the Trandoshan warned. "Let's see what's in that crate."

There wasn't a lot of time to think and very few options available to her. She knew this being by reputation. He was a gambler and a murderer, and her hand immediately flew to her weapon.

"Nothing that concerns scum like you. Now, back off!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Ashes of Our Fathers**: Chapter Three

* * *

"Are you aware of any recent disturbances?" Benan asked another resident of Level 487, receiving the exact same reply. Silence. Did nobody speak down here? Or were they just not speaking to _him_?

As he walked, he noticed a lot activity. Vendors lined the durasteel walks attempting to sell their junk. He didn't see anyone buying anything though. Most of the activity he did see would be considered illegal up top. There was a lot of drug trading occurring, and right out in the open. It wasn't like they were hiding it. Why would they? There was very little policing this far down. His father had washed his hands of the lowest levels long ago. He considered them beyond his influence or care.

Essentially, the residents were on their own and had created their own environment; which was deplorable, by the way. The only source of light was the neon glow of cantina signs, the air was stale and reeked of decay, and the raucous laughter and music bleeding out of every business was enough to put him on edge.

Benan turned quickly as a loud noise disrupted his thoughts. What he saw was as he suspected and he watched in disgust as piles of garbage obviously from higher up, tumbled down through a series of pipes. Some of it filtered through and landed in a heap and was immediately being rummaged through by local dwellers. The rest kept going down.

The stench near the garbage pile was overwhelming, and it wasn't much better the further away he walked. Benan quickly activated the oxygen filter on his helmet.

He wasn't sure what he was looking for, and since nobody was apparently going to talk to him, there was no point in being here. He was more than happy to leave and couldn't understand why others wished to stay. Who would choose to live in a place such as this? There were even younglings down in this filth!

Waste lined the streets, both solid and organic; possibly even hazardous. There was nothing, and he meant nothing worth living for down here.

He had failed his mission, but had seen enough. When it felt as if the grime was beginning to seep through his armor, he decided it was time to go. He couldn't stand another minute of it.

Benan noticed the stares as he traveled back toward the set of lifts which would carry him back to the surface where he belonged, but their concern was short-lived. He didn't understand it. They didn't seem afraid of him. It was more like they were indifferent to his presence. It was better this way, he imagined. They didn't care about him, and he was more than happy to return the favor.

Those were his thoughts until he happened upon actual disturbance. It probably wasn't the one he'd been sent down here to look for, but it required his attention nonetheless. He hated an unfair fight, and this one was obviously one-sided.

Just to his left, about six meters away was a young woman who was standing toe-to-toe with a Trandoshan who easily outweighed her by 200 pounds. She seemed to be handling herself fine and had already drawn a weapon. Benan would mind his own business were it not for the fact that her opponent was holding a ten centimeter vibroblade behind his back!

Benan approached quickly, drawing his lightsaber as he did so. It reflected a red hue in the surprised Trandoshan's reptilian eyes.

"Step away," he warned, twirling the glowing red sword in a show of confidence and intimidation.

The being eyed him cautiously, seemed to be considering his options before he huffed out a sigh of aggravation. He turned on his enormous heel and stormed away, tucking the dangerous blade in the back of his pants. Brenan watched him go until he was out of sight, making sure he didn't double back and attack either of them.

But when he turned his attention to the woman he had helped, she was gone.

"Not even a thank you?" He uttered aloud, rotating his head in several directions until finally seeing her walking down an alley between two rusted steel buildings.

"Hey!" he shouted, following after her, determined to at least see her face before he left. She wasn't paying him any mind, however, and he hastened his steps. Was she hard of hearing as well?

He applied his hand to her back to gain her attention, and she spun on him automatically, her pistol drawn.

"What do you want?"

She sounded aggravated when she should be grateful. Shouldn't she?

"A little gratitude, perhaps?" Brenan stood still and made no move to withdraw his lightsaber. Even though this young woman was petite, she was obviously fearless. And he couldn't help but also notice she was quite lovely. In fact, if it weren't for the rags of the Lowers she was wearing, he would say she was the most beautiful creature he had ever encountered. He was a little surprised to find such an elegant female down here, and was a stunned silent for a moment.

"I was handling everything just fine," she bit back, turning to steer the delivery skiff once again.

He wasn't going to let her get away that easily. There was something about her…

"You didn't see the vibroblade he was hiding behind his back."

"I knew it was there," she argued without stopping.

"Oh, really?" his tone was bordering on sarcastic, but he couldn't help himself. He had battled all across the galaxy, what did this girl know about self defense?

"Listen," she sighed, finally stopping to face him. "You're not from down here, so you don't understand. Being prepared for any possibility is a way of life. Unless you're looking for death. of course. In that case, you won't care. I'm fighting to stay alive, and alive I'll remain, despite the odds. So, go back to your lavish and spoiled lifestyle and leave the rest of us alone."

"Wait a second...I...but I..." Benan stammered. He'd never been spoken to like this in his life!

"That's what I thought." She stared at his face as if she were attempting to see through the visor of his helmet, her brows pinching together in concentration. He stared back, though she couldn't see, and would've probably been insulted if she could. He couldn't help it, but he wanted her in his bed; to gaze into the intoxicating depths of her dark eyes as he made love to her over and over again; to hear the tone of her voice change from one of irritation to one of pleasure.

His fantasies were interrupted by something impacting his back. Even then, it took a moment to pull away his attention from her face.

There was a crowd gathering, and they looked upset.

"Leave her alone!" one of them shouted before hurling a piece of metal at him. Brenan allowed it to strike him on his chest plate without moving. But when several more projectiles were aimed his direction, he chose to move out of the way.

A chorus of threats, and commands for him to go back to the Upper Level was filling his ears, but he managed to hear another from behind him. It was a different young woman's voice, and she was calling out to the girl he had been previously speaking to.

"MiLady! Padme! Come away!"

Benan curiously glanced that direction, spying another young woman about the same age as the first but not quite as beautiful. She was clothed in similar style and frantic to get the attention of her friend.

'Padme,' Benan breathed inside his helmet. At least now he knew her name.

He drew his sword and the crowd immediately backed up. Benan quietly chuckled to himself. He didn't mean them any harm, but they were easily intimidated, as his father's subjects should be. One thing he was sure of, was they should also be obedient to the throne and its court. After everything the emperor had done for them, he deserved their loyalty!

His teasing quickly turned to aggravation. "Don't you realize who I am?" He shouted back at them. "I'm Benan Palpatine, son of the Emperor, the Savior of Justice, and I demand your respect!"

That little speech bought him nothing but a furiously thrown piece of garbage, which struck him on the side of his head.

That would be the last thing that hit him he decided, and he brandished his lightsaber, preparing to bat down anything else which came flying his direction.

When the crowd began chanting for him to leave, however, Benan decided it would be best if he did as they asked. He was down here to establish peace, and obviously, his presence wasn't getting the job done. He switched off the saber, held up his hand to try and calm the crowd, and announced his departure.

He knew he was being watched by them, most likely to assure he kept his word. What he didn't realize was that there were two more sets of eyes studying him from more distant shadows.

"Is he really who he says he is?" one of the young women asked.

"I believe so, even though I've never seen him person." Padme answered. "At least I don't think I have…Unless…" she began, unable to complete the thought aloud until she made some sense of it. Her friend, Dorme however, prompted her to continue.

"What is it?"

The young woman stared toward the lift area even after the visitor had long since disappeared, the impossibility of what she was about to say giving her pause. The thought was disturbing to say the least. "I think I know him."


	4. Chapter 4

**Ashes of Our Fathers: **Chapter Four

* * *

The lowest habitable level beneath the glittering and sunlit towers of Galactic City was 500, and it was to that particular depth Padme traveled. The fact she had once been a queen perched on a golden throne crossed her mind with some irony. Now she was descending into a dark pit that no humanoid would dare venture.

She actually visited here often; at least once a week, because there was an inhabitant here she cared about. Someone of great importance. He lived here not by choice, but out of necessity. Following the Jedi Purge, she had brought him here to heal. Once he was healthy again, he had decided to stay. Like her, he too discovered a dire need and a calling below the surface. This forgotten population needed as much help and guidance as they could get. She was thankful for his presence, although sometimes found his verbal syntax somewhat difficult to follow.

At the end of a long, narrow tunnel, a dim light appeared. As usual, he knew she was coming, and he had stepped out to meet her halfway. His large eyes were more accustomed to the heavy veil of darkness in these depths, as well as the thinness of the oxygen. Padme breathed more shallower than normal whenever she was down here, and she never stayed long. It would make sense to bring him up to a higher level where the living conditions were actually an improvement, but they had both agreed long ago; if there was ever a chance for redemption, his survival was crucial.

"Good afternoon, Master Yoda," she greeted him with a smile, offering him her hand.

"Good to see you, it is."

His manner of speaking and short stature were contradictory to the power and wisdom he possessed. Padme had witnessed that power herself when she had seen him battle the emperor's forces. She had heard the rumors below and like many, had emerged to see for herself that the Jedi were actually being annihilated. The emperor had finally gotten his way, and he had the entire population of Coruscant behind him. Somehow, he had convinced the populace that the Jedi were a corrupt and bloodthirsty cult, bent on galactic rule. They were dangerous and untrustworthy.

The battle occurred within the Temple and on the steps leading to it. It was on those steps that Padme witnessed the talent of Master Yoda. At one point, he had been surrounded by four or five of the emperor's soldiers, and he had eliminated them all. But the Jedi in the Temple were outnumbered and overtaken. Padme and her friends watched in horror as Master Yoda fell and was left for dead. She couldn't stand by and do nothing and had risked her life to bring him below; as far below as possible.

"I've brought you a few things," Padme told him, bringing forth a small cloth bag filled with some of his favorite foods.

"Kind, you are. Come."

She followed him, ducking beneath a low arched doorway which led into his private chamber. There were some Jedi artifacts stored here, which her comrades had managed to recover before the emperor took over the building, as well as stacks of data archives. In the center of the circular space was a single cushion, and it was there he spent most of his time in meditation. He didn't have many guests, so Padme knelt on the cold stone beneath her feet.

His green eyes were sorrowful as he leaned upon his walking stick.

"News, you have to tell me, hm?"

"Yes," Padme began. She had learned long ago, the ancient Jedi Master didn't much care for small talk. It was always best to come straight to the point. "Someone came down today. He called himself Benan, the Savior of Justice." Padme couldn't keep from saying that last title with a touch of sarcasm. Justice, indeed.

"Ah," Yoda sighed. "The Emperor's son he is."

Padme shifted her weight and got more comfortable, trying to disguise her suspicions. She failed.

"Doubt he is who he claims to be, you do?"

"I'm not sure," the young woman answered honestly. "There was something about his voice that was familiar, and the way he carried himself."

"Interesting. Continue. Tell me your thoughts, you should."

Yoda had always put her at ease whenever she doubted herself, and he was an excellent listener. She had shared many frustrations with him over the years and not once did he belittle her or make her feel foolish.

"Do you recall the Jedi who came to the aid of Naboo right before the emperor came into power?"

She remembered that time very well. Under the ruse of a trade embargo, Senator Palpatine from Naboo had twisted the truth of the events and framed the Jedi, convincing the public the Jedi had tried to overthrow the government of Naboo. And he had holovid evidence to prove it; heavily edited holovid evidence. It was the beginning of the end for the Jedi Order. Not long after that fiasco, Palpatine managed to disband the Galactic Senate, rose to the power of Emperor, and executed all the Jedi he could find — starting with their home base on Coruscant. To escape the tyranny which had reached her planet, she and a few of her close friends had escaped Naboo by stowing away on a troop transport heading back to Coruscant, and there she had stayed since.

Someday she would return to Naboo. But first things first. She had to help rid the galaxy of Emperor Palpatine and restore the Jedi to their rightful place. The trouble was, she didn't know how.

"A Master and apprentice. Best of the Jedi they were."

"That's right," Padme agreed. She remembered them quite well. The Master was a tall gentleman with long silvered hair and a short beard. He was proud, if a little arrogant and stubborn. It was the younger one, the apprentice, who had made more of an impact with her, however. Dormé had teased her back in those days that she had developed a crush on the young Jedi, but Padme had brushed it off. She was only 14 years of age for heavens' sake!

'Padme, you were born old.' To this day, Dorme's words echoed in her mind, but she'd still been uncomfortable pursuing a romantic relationship with him. Instead, they had developed a friendship with the hope for more in the future.

"Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi," she announced.

"Correct, you are. A powerful Jedi young Kenobi would have become if return from Naboo he did."

Padme didn't correct Master Yoda. She had seen the holovid of the intense battle between the Jedi apprentice and the tattooed warrior; had watched in horror as the two of them had gotten entangled and fell into a melting pit. Their bodies were never recovered but they were both presumed dead, consumed by molten plasma.

"Would it be…"she began, doubting her own reasoning. This may be the first time the old Jedi questioned her sanity. "Could it be possible Obi-Wan survived?"

There was no response from Yoda. At least not yet, so Padme continued.

"I know this is going to sound crazy, but the emperor's son, Benan, who came down today. He spoke to me and I swear he sounded just like Obi-Wan. I know it's been a while, but I remember his voice. We talked at length when he came to Naboo."

"Look similar as well, did they?"

Her evidence was definitely lacking. "Not that I could tell. Benan wears plated armor, and he had a helmet on." Did Master Yoda believe in gut feelings? Perhaps she was about to find out.

"Hmmmm," the Master Jedi purred, propping his chin atop his cane, his lips curling in concentration. "Another meeting there should be. Prove your theory, we should try."

That sounded like a plan, but once again, she wasn't sure how to accomplish it. "I'm not even sure why he came down here in the first place."

"Assigned to police the lowers he has been. Any complications, he is to address. A few friends above, I still have." The elder smiled conspiratorially. "A disturbance you should create. Draw him back down, it will. Do your best to identify him, and help you I shall."

"Wait…" Padme was thankful for the advice but was honestly surprised he was offering it so readily. Did he believe her, or was he patronizing her just to be kind? "So, you believe me? Is it possible Benan Palpatine is Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

The look of glee left the Jedi's face as his eyes squeezed tightly closed. When they reopened, they were filled with grief.

"Death of a Jedi, feel their passing I do. Felt that with Obi-Wan, I did not. Expected, I did, to see him again. Surprised I am, in this form he has come, but question the Force I will not."

"So," Padme stated with some relief, visibly relaxing her posture. "A disturbance, huh?"

How was she going to accomplish such a thing?

* * *

A/N: Actually the lowest level is about 5000. Told you I was going to change a few things! So...waddya think so far? Post a review and let me know!


	5. Chapter 5

**Ashes of Our Fathers**: Chapter Five

* * *

"_I don't understand why you put up with such a troublesome creature. And since when have you cared about what happens beneath the city?" _

"_That is none of your concern. All is proceeding as I have foreseen. Soon, the boy will lead us to Yoda. He has nearly fulfilled his purpose." _

"_You do realize he only wants to go down there because of the woman, don't you?"_

_Emperor Palpatine turned a malicious glare toward Mas Amedda; a faithful companion since his first term as a senator. _

"_I am aware of his association with Padmé Amidala." The older man spoke with venom. "In fact, I am counting on it."_

* * *

He didn't like sleeping alone, but was highly aware that nothing would satisfy him; now that he had seen her. Only after one short meeting, he was as bad as any spice addict. He must see her again and soon. Never had he been so desperate to be with anyone, and he had his pick of many very attractive women. Most of them would answer his call at a moment's notice, even though some of them were quite respected in society.

Tonight, Benan didn't want to see any of them, even if it meant spending the night alone with his own thoughts; which were keeping him more than occupied. The first of which was, how had been able to convince his father to allow him to be responsible for the Lowers? Since when had the old man cared what happened to the citizens down there?

Surprisingly, Benan did. Sure, he had an ulterior motive; he wanted to see Padmé again. However, there was another reason occurring to him, one he didn't expect. The population there had been nonchalant and disinterested in his presence earlier, and that bothered him; more than he wanted to admit.

Up top, there were statues erected in his honor. Beings praised him when he walked down the street; they stopped him often to shake his hand! He wasn't used to being ignored. He had to fix that right away, and there was no better time than the present. It wasn't like he was going to get any sleep anyway.

The young man rose from the warmth and comfort of his spacious bed and stepped into his private dressing area to view his extensive wardrobe. She may have been correct, he realized as he stared down the long rows of clothing options. His father had always provided everything he had ever needed or wanted. Indeed, he had lived a life of luxury. Convincing Padmé his lifestyle hadn't created an arrogant man to match may be difficult.

Just the day before, he had entered the lower levels in his full armor; his intention to intimidate and frighten the residents. His purpose for returning so soon was the exact opposite. Unlike his father, Benan believed if one way didn't work, there were other ways. Perhaps he should try kindness and convince them he was someone they could trust. Perhaps then, he would gain their loyalty and cooperation, and in doing so, he would gain Padmé's favor as well.

To do that, he needed to look like one of them; to blend in, not try to rise above them. Benan stared once again at his expensive wardrobe. Perhaps, he needed to do a little shopping first.

* * *

"Dormé! I swear, the girl snores like a bantha!" Padmé was trying to be quiet and not wake other residents sleeping nearby, but her friend was really out of it. She pushed on the young woman's shoulder a couple of times. "Dormé, wake up!"

Her arm was suddenly and tightly grabbed without warning, and a small vibroblade was touching her throat.

"So sorry, MiLady!" Dormé blushed once she was fully awake, withdrawing the weapon as quickly as it had appeared.

Padmé smiled down at her friend. She should've known better than to sneak up on her. All handmaidens had undergone rigorous physical combat training on Naboo, and Dormé had graduated at the top of her class. She often joked about having Jedi reflexes.

"My fault, don't worry about it." Padmé soothed the young woman's concern. "But I need you to get up. We have something important to do and there's no time better than the present."


	6. Chapter 6

**Ashes of Our Fathers**: Chapter Six

* * *

"Are you sure about this?" Dormé was prepared to follow her Queen virtually into any situation, but knew it was never wise to voluntarily put oneself in danger.

Padmé was known to be determined; brave as well, which was what made her such a great leader. It would probably be best, therefore, if her personal bodyguard pretended to be equally as daring. But the truth was, she was a little nervous.

"This is where Garnac hangs out. If we're going to create a disturbance, then he's the best one to do it."

Dormé knew Garnac. Not personally, but she knew what he was capable of. Hell, everyone in the Lower Levels knew. There had been numerous beings, mostly gamblers, who had tried to cheat him at cards or upset him in some other way, and they had either paid with their life or loss of a limb. The Trandoshan was big, mean, and ugly, and Padmé had already had a run in with him once this week.

She had a bad feeling about this.

But what could she do? Even without her help, Padmé was going to go inside. Dormé knew her well enough to know that. She didn't have much of a choice then, did she?

"So, what's the plan?"

The two young women were standing just outside one of Level 488's most gaudy establishments. It was a popular sabaac club which drew only the most ruthless beings. Some games were rumored to be played to the death, and Padmé believed it. On the walkway just outside the entrance were blood stains – in different stages of of decomposition. She swallowed the lump forming in her throat and grasped her friend's hand to keep her own from shaking. Was Dorme's trembling as well?

"We're going to go in there, find Garnac, and start a fight."

"And how, exactly, are we going to do that?"

Padmé was still for a moment, staring into the dark, smoky atmosphere of the club, gathering her resolve, and trying to come up with a strategy. Finally, she decided there wasn't time for that, and she honestly shared her thoughts. "I don't know. I'm sort of making this up as I go. Come on."

It took a moment to adjust to the dim lighting. There were glowlights scattered about, but they were set low against the durasteel flooring. The only other light was near the bar, and of course the glowing stubs of the death sticks which were commonly smoked in places such as this.

Dormé had released her hand, but stay close, waiting to execute whatever plan was hatched. Suddenly, the young woman started talking, which told Padmé, her friend was nervous.

"I found its head."

"Who's head?"

"The bantha's."

She must be more nervous than Padmé had initially believed. The girl wasn't making any sense at all! "What bantha?"

"The one who lost its head, of course!"

Padmé glared at her confused comrade through the haze. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. Dormé was obviously distracted. "What are you talking about?"

"Didn't you notice the name of this place? It's on the sign outside!"

"No, I didn't. It's not important."

"It is to me," Dormé argued, pointing toward the far wall. "It explains that."

Padmé turned her head to look for herself. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Well, the place _is_ called The Headless Bantha, so yeah, I guess it is."

"Oh. Ew! Do you think it's real?"

"Probably," Dormé answered confidently, while pinching her nose shut. "It would explain the smell in here."

The club did have a distinct foul odor, one which was even worse than the fumes of decaying garbage outside. Perhaps it was the smell of severed bantha head, unwashed gamblers, spice smoke, or the combination of all the above. Whatever they were about to do, they needed to get it done quickly before one or both of them got sick.

Now that her eyesight had grown accustomed to the surroundings, Padmé steered Dormé further into the establishment, and they headed toward the dirty bar. While Dormé ordered them both a drink, Padmé took the opportunity to scan the gambling tables.

"There he is," she reported, keeping her voice low and nodding toward the back.

"Ok," Dormé acknowledged. "So what now? Do you want me to just walk over and kick him in the groin?"

Sarcasm. It was another one of her nervous attributes.

"Of course not. Just give me a moment."

Padmé discretely watched the table where Garnac was playing. Opposite him were a Rodian and two humanoid males. Thankfully, the Trandoshan's back was to them. She took a risky drink from the powerful ale Dormé had ordered and waited.

It wasn't long until an observer stepped up to the table and an idea popped into her mind.

The plan wasn't full proof, but it was the best she could come up with. Padmé waited near the bar while Dormé carried out the task, which was pretty simple. All she had to do was walk by the table, bump into Garnac, and blame it on the large Bothan standing behind him. A fight would ensue, probably escalate, and thus a disturbance would be created.

She should've known better. Things were never that simple down in the Lowers.

On the way over, Dormé was bumped into herself by a waiter, who, in turn, dumped his tray of drinks onto a seated customer. The customer jumped out of their chair angrily, backed into the targeted Bothan, who was smoking a death stick she hadn't noticed before. The lit stick fell into the customer's drink and ignited, which was then frantically deposited onto the Trandoshan's vested back, setting it immediately ablaze. Garnac was on his feet in a flash, ignoring the flames for the time-being, and looking to murder anyone responsible for setting him on fire. By that time, Dormé was back at Padmé's side and looked helplessly at her mentor and friend.

"Not exactly what you had in mind, but it worked, didn't it? I'd say this qualifies for a disturbance."

Padmé was aghast at the chaos erupting about them, especially when the prize display on the wall caught on fire as well. It wasn't long before the entire wall was ablaze.

"Time to go!" she shouted to Dormé, who immediately responded by dragging her toward the exit by her arm.

Debris began flying by their heads on their way out the door, which Dormé discovered was actually items being thrown by participants of the fight and she summoned Padmé to the floor, following her down.

The two women crawled their way to safety, glancing back once outside to ensure they had made it. As a result, Padmé crawled right into a pair of black boots, which were attached to black trousered legs, a plain gray tunic, a nerf-hide vest popular in the Lowers, and a well-trimmed reddish beard growing beneath a pair of eyes the same color of storm clouds over Theed.

Her throat constricted by either inhaling smoke or the surprise of seeing him so soon, and it made her voice squeak. "Obi-Wan Kenobi?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Ashes of Our Fathers: **Chapter Seven

* * *

"What did you just say?"

The name had just slipped out of her mouth. He wasn't wearing his armor and helmet, and it was so obvious who he was. Why didn't he realize it himself? Padmé worried she may have just complicated matters and would have to alter her plan – a plan she hadn't exactly worked out yet.

She did know one thing they needed to do, however, and that was to get as far away from The Headless Bantha as possible. Padmé suspected a flaming Gornac was an angry Gornac.

"Come on," she urged, grabbing Dormé by the arm.

She noticed Obi-Wan was following them. He even stepped into the lift.

"You do realize who I am, don't you?" He continued, and Padmé realized she hadn't answered his first question yet.

"Of course I do," she attempted to convince him with a smile. "You're Benan Palpatine, the Savior of Justice." It was actually difficult to keep the sarcasm out of her voice when she added that final part. Still, her acknowledgment hadn't erased the confusion from his face.

"Then why did you call me by that name?"

Padme took a deep breath and smiled again. "I simply mistook you for someone else. Someone I used to know. That's all."

For the time-being, her answer seemed to satisfy him, but she had a feeling more questions were coming.

"Tell me you two didn't have anything to do with that fire." His tone was authoritative, but there was a sparkle in his eye. If indeed he was in charge of establishing order in the Lowers, he wasn't taking his job very seriously.

Dormé chose to answer that one. "It was a simple misunderstanding. Some people don't have much of a sense of humor."

One of his copper brows rose. "Since when does a misunderstanding result in the destruction of an entire block?"

"Now you're just exaggerating," Dormé teased. "And besides, there's nothing on that block worth saving anyway. Just a few gambling pits and whorehouses full of the worse scum and villainy. If the Emperor gave a damn, he would've cleared it out a long time ago."

Padmé glanced quickly at their visitor. Would the truth upset him or would he agree?

"How dare you," he began. "Everything my father has done has been for the good of the galaxy! His intentions are more than honorable."

It was worse than Padmé thought. What sort of hold did the Emperor have over him? What had happened to make Obi-Wan Kenobi think he was the son of such a wretched man? These were the worries which plagued her while Dormé continued to argue with him. The two were still going at it when they stepped off the lift.

"….hasn't lifted a finger to help anyone down here! They're all dying of disease and starving to death!" she was saying.

"The Lowers population has brought this upon themselves. They are the ones who choose to live in such filth! If they wanted to, they would leave! There are plenty of opportunities above."

This was a pointless argument while Obi-Wan was in his current state of mind. Somehow, Padmé had to figure out a way to undo whatever the Emperor had done, and make Obi-Wan remember everything he used to be.

This was beyond her abilities and would require an understanding she did not possess.

"Pardon me," she interrupted the ongoing debate, flashing a brilliant smile and batting her eyelashes as an added measure. Surprisingly, it worked and the argument came to an abrupt halt. "Would you mind waiting here a moment? I need to speak with my friend."

"Of course," Benan answered with a grin of his own.

She was a curious creature. Underneath, she was all courage and command. He could tell by the way she carried herself. If her circumstances were any different, she could be a vital citizen of Coruscant; a leader - perhaps even a business owner. Benan was finding the more he spoke to her, the more attractive she became. It was no longer just her physical beauty he found so alluring. It was her confidence and cool demeanor as well.

Even now, he could tell who was in charge. The two women had stepped away and were speaking in confidence, but it was Padmé who was doing all the talking. All her friend, Dormé did was occasionally nod in agreement.

Dormé; now there was a challenge. Some males he knew wouldn't mind a mate who would disagree with everything they said, but not him. He wanted someone who thought the same way he did, who had the same goals and dreams. Even at age 32, he had already learned his life was a lot quieter that way.

Apparently, the private conversation had ended, and thankfully, Dormé was going her own way. He was just as pleased to notice Padmé was returning to him.

"Am I keeping you from anything?" he asked as politely as he could. Benan was doing his best to make a good impression on her, despite her friend's strong opinions otherwise.

"Not really, don't worry about it." She said, stepping closely and smiling up at him, her eyes aglow. He took it back. Not a business owner. She could definitely be a model. He could envision the beauty of her face on holoboards all over Galactic City.

If he was reading her body language correctly, she was attracted to him as well, and that hope made his heart rate increase.

"I know how corny this is going to sound, but what is a beautiful girl like you doing in a place like this?" Benan realized the old pick-up line was cliché, but he really wanted to know. She obviously didn't belong here.

"In the right place at the right time, I guess."

She was toying with him. He could tell by the playful smirk of her lips and the light in her eyes. He was enjoying her company but wasn't expecting what she did next. He would've guessed she was the more innocent type of girl who preferred to take things slow, so when she tiptoed up to kiss him, he was quite surprised.

He kissed her back, of course, and would've enjoyed it too, had he not blacked out.

* * *

The two women glanced down at the body, but they were the only ones. Passersby ignored the scene completely. An unconscious being lying on the walkways was nothing out of the ordinary down here.

"I hope he's still alive," Padmé commented with concern.

Her friend knelt down and applied pressure to the young man's jugular. "He's fine. That was just a little how-do-you-do tap."

"Let's pick him up. I'll take the arms."

The two women carried the body back toward the lift.

So far, so good, Padmé thought. She just hoped Master Yoda wouldn't be too upset with her.


	8. Chapter 8

**Ashes of Our Fathers: **Chapter Eight

* * *

The first sensation Benan perceived was coldness. It was spreading through his thigh and arm and he shivered to ward it off. The next was darkness. When he opened his eyes, the only thing visible was a distant orange glow, which outlined nothing but odd shadows. If he tried hard enough, he could imagine one of them was a living thing. That meant, wherever he was, he wasn't alone.

What had happened? His memory was a bit blurred, and his head was aching. Then, he remembered. The kiss. She had kissed him, and apparently during that, someone bludgeoned him.

"Good, awake you are." A voice came out of the darkness and Benan decided perhaps a weapon in his hand wouldn't be a bad idea. But when he called for it, the power which always answered him was silent.

It dawned on him at that moment; there was something around his neck. He reached for it, felt cold durasteel, several buttons, but no opening mechanism.

"What is this?" He questioned the shadows.

"A Force inhibitor, that is," the voice calmly responded. "Unsure of how you would react, I was. Better this will be."

Benan squinted again, trying to make out anything across the small, cold chamber. He couldn't. "Why don't you come out where I can see you?" He suggested. 'And where I can get my hands on you,' he kept to himself.

"Patient I am, and patient you must be. Listen you will, for information I have to share."

Why did this being speak in such a way? Everything he said was backwards!

Whoever this was, Benan thought, was used to being in charge. Perhaps he should listen, and besides, he was curious to see what was so important.

"Go ahead. I'm listening," he prompted.

"Hard for you to hear, this will be, but Benan Palpatine you are not."

Ok. So he was a prisoner of a maniac somewhere far below street level. That much, he'd figured out. Now, he just had to come up with a strategy to escape.

"Oh really?" Benan replied with a touch of sarcasm. "And who would I be?"

"A warrior, a promising student, a good Padawan you were."

Benan could barely contain his laughter. He recognized the word. "A Padawan, huh? So, you're saying I'm a Jedi? Come on, let me go. You're obviously out of your mind. Nothing good can come of this. As soon as they realize I'm missing, my father is going to send down a legion of his best soldiers. They'll tear this place apart until they've found me."

"Your father, Emperor Palpatine is not," the graveled voice continued. "Kidnapped you he did and somehow control your mind, he has. The Dark Side of the Force, he uses. An evil man, he is."

Benan was having trouble keeping a straight face. The absurdity of these statements were about to make him burst. It would probably be best, he decided, if he took this serious — At least until he was sure who he was dealing with.

"Okay, let me get this straight. What you're saying is I'm a Jedi who was kidnapped by an evil emperor and I'm being manipulated by the Dark Side. For what purpose? What possible reason would that serve?"

There was silence in the chamber for a while and Benan began to wonder if perhaps he'd been hit in the head harder than he'd initially thought. Perhaps he was hallucinating. However, the strange voice resumed and his motivation to escape changed entirely.

"Perhaps to find me. And using you to do that, he is."

"Is that so? And who might you be? Some notorious criminal wanted all over the Galaxy?" This time, he couldn't help himself and he chuckled.

But then the glow of the light opposite him gradually increased until the shadow became a form, and that form became exactly what Benan has suggested, although hadn't come close to guessing.

"I know who you are." Benan spoke, all of his previous levity now gone. "We've been looking for you, and here you are. You've been hiding right under our noses this entire time. Smart."

The dangerous creature known as Yoda, the leader of the once powerful Jedi cult stepped closer, leaning his weight on a short and crooked wooden cane. Benan wasn't deceived by his small size or his ambulatory restrictions. Although, he hadn't faced him during the Great Purge, he'd seen the holorecordings of the diminutive being in battle. Benan had never seen anyone fight with as much speed and accuracy as Yoda. His father was right to want him in custody. He was a threat to the Empire and to himself. The young man decided to guard his words a bit more carefully from now on.

"So, I'm a prisoner then. What are you going to do with me? Hold me for ransom? Torture me?"

Instead of anger showing on his face, Yoda's expression was strangely sad; remorseful even, and Benan didn't understand it at all. He was especially confused when, with the flick of his enemy's claw, the inhibitor loosened and fell, clattering against the stone floor.

"A prisoner, you are not," he was told. "A comrade you once were, and once again, I hope you will be. Free to go, you are. But know this, you should. The truth, make you believe, I cannot. Go to the prisons on Dathomir, you should. See for yourself, the evil actions of the Sith Lord you call Father. Only then, believe you will, and help us, you can."

Confused now more than ever, but willing to figure it all out later, Benan stood and slowly made his way to the opening he assumed was an exit. He didn't have a weapon, and more than likely, Yoda had his. He would bide his time, especially now that he knew the last Jedi's location. His father would be proud of him and his doscovery.

Halfway out the opening, something occurred to Benan, and he turned his head to look back, noticing the small Jedi hadn't moved a muscle. One would think the little Jedi was foolish for letting him go, but Benan knew Yoda was no fool. This must be a trick.

"You do realize I'm going to go straight to the Emperor and report this, don't you?"

Still, there was no movement, but a statement which only added to his confusion.

"Do what you think is right, you should."

Some ways down a narrow tunnel, he met a face he had once enjoyed seeing; one which now only brought him disappointment and pain.

Padme was silent as she stared at him, her lips slightly parted, as if she wanted to say something, but didn't quite know what it was. Well, he knew exactly what to say.

"It was all just a trap, wasn't it? You don't care about me at all. You know what's so sad about all of this? I was really starting to fall for you. That's what I get, I guess." Benan took one last opportunity to touch her, and he applied a single caress across her cheek; one which prompted a tear to stream down her face.

Good. She was ashamed. She should be. He had no sympathy for her at this moment, whatsoever. She had used him. It would be the last time.

He began walking away and stopped only for a second without turning when she called out to him.

"Where are you going?"

It was obvious, wasn't it? Perhaps she wasn't as intelligent as he had initially believed. "Up top where I belong," he replied, although he did plan to return as soon as possible. The next time he came back down though, he wouldn't be alone.


	9. Chapter 9

**Ashes of Our Fathers: **Chapter Nine

* * *

There was nothing else to say and no argument she could think of to convince him to stay. What had just happened?

Padme rushed down the narrow tunnel and into Yoda's chamber.

"Are you just going to sit there and let him leave?" She was trying her best to keep her voice calm, but how could she when everything they had hoped for was about to be destroyed? And all Yoda wanted to do was to sit on his filthy cushion and meditate?

"As it should be, it is."

"What?" Sometimes, she could scream! Instead, Padme allowed her practice and training to take over and breathed slowly and deeply, clasping her hands behind her back. "You do realize, he's on his way to Palpatine right now, don't you? He's going to tell him exactly where you are, and then it's over. It's all over. An army will be coming down here to look for you, and I can't stop them. There's nothing I can do to help you now."

He was silent and still, almost sedated. Did he know something she didn't?

"Trust in the Force, you should," he mumbled finally.

Ok. That was it. Any grip she had on her self-control had just been shaken. "The Force? Do you mean the Force which allowed Qui-Gon Jinn to die and Obi-Wan to be taken from us? That Force? Or how about the one that allowed an evil dictator to take over the galaxy, causing the suffering and death of thousands of beings of all ages, including innocent younglings? Do you mean that Force?"

At least his eyes were open now. Her outburst hadn't impacted him in any other way, however. He still sat immobile and as serene as always. His consistent tranquil demeanor gave her pause and made her question her own. There were only a few times in her career where Padme had lost her temper. This was one of them, and she was embarrassed to say the least.

"My apologies. I'm just scared. Without you, the hope for a new Republic and Jedi Order is lost."

"My child," Yoda spoke solemnly, motioning for her to sit before him like she had done on many occasions in the past. "Trust the Force inside young Kenobi, we should. Still there, it is. Sensed it, I did and so lost to us, he is not."

Padme sighed heavily. She wasn't sure what that meant exactly, but it sounded promising.

"I pray sometimes, you know." She abruptly told the ancient Jedi. "Just in case."

"Then join me, you should," Yoda replied, closing his eyes once again.

Padme closed hers as well and sent forth her pleas to the heavens.

* * *

Clouds were gathering over Galactic City, which meant a rain cycle was scheduled. So be it, thought Benan. A downpour right now would match his foul mood. He didn't mind walking in the rain. Maybe it would help him clear his mind before he went before his father to share the news.

He'd found Master Yoda, and he'd been hiding in the Lower Levels this entire time. Benan had traveled half the galaxy in search of the elusive Jedi, only to be led right to him; by a girl, nonetheless.

But why? Why had Padme taken him there just so he could be released? And why had Yoda let him go knowing he would report his location to the emperor?

There were some things that just didn't add up.

He had been angry with Padme, and had said some hurtful things. Now that he'd had some time to think about it, there were some connections he hadn't noticed before.

Padme didn't belong in the Lower Levels. That much was clear. She was too elegant and charming. There had to be another reason she was there. Was it to watch over the Jedi Master? Was she trying to keep him safely hidden? If that were true, why her? She didn't seem to be the bodyguard type, and from what he knew about Master Yoda, the Jedi didn't require one anyway.

None of this made any sense.

As Benan mulled this information over, he continued to walk along the heavily populated street which ran in front of Galactic City Bank. It was a new building, constructed over the previous location of the old Jedi Temple. He continued his stroll, not caring about the puddles of water gathering around his feet, until he stepped up to a statue a block over, located at the entrance of the city park. It was a statue of him, and he was quite familiar with it. His father had had it commissioned right after Benan had led a successful raid on Yavin. During that daring raid, he had managed to secure and ship off four Jedi.

The sculpture showed him in a fighting posture, wielding his lightsaber, a malicious grin on his face.

It looked nothing like him. He never made that face when fought. And suddenly, he wondered why.

Could it be possible that he was good after all? That he had been trained in the Light as Master Yoda had claimed?

As Benan weighed the probability in his mind, he was overcome with a sharp pain. It was very similar to the one he'd had the day before. It started at his neck and shot up and over his skull. The severity of it took him down, and he gasped for breath while kneeling in the rain.

There were hundreds of citizens on this walkway, he had noticed before; all minding their own business. And they continued to do so. Despite his obvious agony, not a single one of them stopped to check on him.

It occurred to him, that perhaps those up here above were no better than those below. Except for Padme, of course.

He was in love with her. He realized that now. And because of that, he had to at least give her the benefit of a doubt. He would do what Master Yoda suggested and visit Dathomir and then come back and decide what his next step would be.

Benan stood up, now that the pain had lessened and swiped the dripping tresses of his long hair away from his face. His mind was made up, but first he had to come up with a good enough lie to tell the emperor.


	10. Chapter 10

**Ashes of Our Fathers: **Chapter Ten

* * *

A/N: I feel the necessity to put a warning at the beginning of this chapter. It may be disturbing to some. Sorry about that, but things are going to get better. Promise!

* * *

Emperor Palpatine always had the uncanny ability to see right through him. Although Benan wasn't prone to tell lies, the old man always seemed to know even when he was withholding information. He had to be careful, school his features, and control his pulse rate. Anything might give him away.

Benan stepped into the throne room where his father was listening to the complaints of several business owners, but as soon as the emperor noticed his presence, he completely ignored the visitors and rose from his seat, greeting Benan with a hug.

"Did you find the Lower Levels to your liking? I tried to warn you it isn't a pleasant place to be. Come, share your discoveries with me."

Without so much as a farewell to his company, his father led him to a conference area in the next room, where they sat comfortably at a large table.

"I have good news," Benan began. "I've discovered the location of the Jedi Master called Yoda."

The reaction on the old man's face was amazement and possibly disbelief. Did he not think Benan would be capable of doing this on his own? "Tell me more."

"I spoke with someone below who guarantees Yoda's location is in the Outer Rim on a planet called Tatooine. Our troops haven't been there yet, because well, you know."

"The Hutts," the Emperor hissed.

"They paid a pretty substantial fee to keep us out of their business," Benan reminded him. "I'll head there at once."

"You're going to face Master Yoda alone?" His father chuckled. "I wouldn't advise it."

"I'll stop in at Mos Eisley and hire some bounty hunters if I need to," Benan pointed out. "But I don't think the Hutts will be too happy with a bunch of your stormtroopers stomping around and shooting up the place. It's best if I make this a solo mission."

"Perhaps a wise decision. Leave at once but keep in contact with me. I shall be waiting to hear of your success. At last, the Jedi shall be no more."

Benan had heard his father say that on more than one occasion, but this was the first time the words bothered him. What had once sounded like a cause for celebration, now sounded like nothing but cold-blooded vengeance. How had he been so blind all this time?

A headache still lingered and Benan rubbed his temple.

"I will have your ship prepared for departure. Good luck, my son."

* * *

Time passes quickly at hyper speed, and before Benan realized it, he was entering the Outer Rim territory. However, instead of steering toward Tatooine as he had informed his father he would do, he set the navigation coordinates for Dathomir; the home of the Imperial Prison System.

From a distance, the planet gave off a reddish hue due to the brilliance of its center star. On closer inspection, the ground was covered with vegetation and swamplands. He continued past them until spying several towering buildings of dark gray, encircled by a grid of blue laser light.

He set down just outside the facility and ordered his R4 droid to standby, just in case things went south.

However, upon stepping inside the building, he was greeted warmly by the warden who called himself Tarzah.

"Gil Tarzah, proprietor of this establishment," the pudgy man introduced himself, shaking Benan's hand generously. "We don't get many visitors, especially one of your status. Welcome!"

"You already know who I am?" Benan hadn't thought of that. If this Tarzah guy told his father he had just dropped by the prison, there may be trouble. If things were as the Emperor had told him, all would continue on as normal. If not, then the trouble would be for Palpatine, not him. Benan would make sure of it.

"Of course! You're Benan Palpatine, the emperor's son, and I'm so pleased to meet you! Are you here for an inspection? Of course you are. Come right in! Let me show you around."

If he didn't know any better, Benan would think the man was nervous. Or else, he always talked this fast. He didn't know him well enough yet to judge.

"What is it you'd like to see?" The stocky man was leading him down a corridor lined with offices, each one filled with security controls and personnel. "We recently upgraded our security by the way. Top notch laser technology. Are you familiar with Zinga Security Systems? They're the best around. LaserPuls tech is the latest and greatest. Just the slightest contact makes quite an impression, let me tell you. Since we've installed the system, we haven't had a single escape attempt. Not one!"

Benan's ears were getting tired. "Can I see your containment facility?" He asked, hoping to shut the man up for a minute at least.

"Of course. Right this way!"

Tarzah led him to the end of the corridor and down a flight of steps, into a lift, down five stories, and then down another corridor. The entire time, he talked about the wise investment the emperor had made in the laser security upgrade, and everything it was capable of.

Until finally — Finally they approached a secured entrance which was heavily guarded.

"You'll have to empty your pockets and leave your weapons here, I'm afraid. No exceptions." The warden requested, and Benan did exactly as he was told. He wasn't here to start a fight, just to get some answers.

"Down this hallway are some of our more notorious criminals in this sector. Murderers, pirates, traitors to the empire, and the like. Some are here for life. We even have Noldi the Carver. You know, the serial killer responsible for all those Twi'Lek murders a few years back?"

"What about Jedi?" Benan asked.

"Pardon?"

"Jedi," Benan repeated. "Do you house any Jedi here?"

Tarzah looked at him curiously but then started chuckling, his large belly jiggling with each movement.

"Oh, I get it. This is a test, right? Well then, come this way!"

They went back through the security gate, into the lift and down. Twenty levels down, below the ground.

"We don't have too many occupants down this deep these days, and no visitors. You're the first," the man chuckled again, and Benan gritted his teeth.

Down another corridor, through a locked door, and another flight of steps. The deeper they went, the colder it got. At the bottom of the steps, it was dark, and Tarzah removed a controller from his pocket.

"Allow me." He activated a switch and soon, embedded glowlights flickered on down the length of a long corridor with a dirt floor. Piled along this corridor were skeletons. Thousands of them. Of all species and sizes. He was speechless. Tarzah wasn't.

"There you go! See? I told the emperor we didn't have the space for this, but he wanted them all in place. We had to tunnel all this out by hand. Took weeks. Not bad, huh? Kind of like a grave, and the only one these fellas are gonna get."

Benan wasn't sure he could talk. "Are these….all Jedi?"

"Most of 'em. Some are just those Force sensitive types. Better safe than sorry, ya' know? These right here are the newest." Tarzah pointed to four bodies closer to them. "Still got some skin on 'em, but that'll burn away quick enough. We turn on the heat down here at night and cook 'em good. You don't wanna be down here when that happens. The stench is something awful!"

He felt sick, especially after he noticed on the far side, a set of large black grates built into the durasteel walls.

"Are those…?" He managed to say.

"Yep. Those are the furnaces. After the prisonters arrive, we bring 'em down here and toast 'em real good."

"I…" Benan's head was reeling, his stomach was knotting up. He had to turn away before he lost it. Too bad he turned the wrong way.

"Ah! That's them." Tarzah pointed out with despicable pride. "Such a pity, but you know, even the younglings were too dangerous to be kept alive. The emperor could sense that. What was really something is how they all took it. They just knelt there in a big group with their eyes closed. Never seen anything like it. None of them was crying or anything."

He couldn't stand another second.

"Thank you for the tour. I'll let myself out."

Up the stairs Benan flew, not bothering to answer the question being yelled after him. Something about giving his father a good report. He didn't reply. He just had to get out of there. He grabbed his weapons, skipped the lifts and ran top speed up the stairs, down the corridors, right by the security offices, and out the door. He took long intakes of the fresh air once outdoors, but it didn't help.

He vomited on the parking grounds of the Imperial Prison. Let them report that back to the Emperor. It didn't matter. Not much did any more.

All that mattered right now was figuring out what the hell happened to Obi-Wan Kenobi. And to do that, he had to get back to Master Yoda.


	11. Chapter 11

**Ashes of Our Fathers: **Chapter Eleven

"_He's back. The port officer notified me just moments ago." _

"_Good. Have your men follow him." _

"_You don't think he'll come here first?" _

"_No, I do not. After his discover at the prison, I am sure he will head straight down to find some sympathy."_

* * *

He'd had plenty of time to think: an entire day's flight from the Outer Rim. Things were clearer than before, and a lot made more sense now. If only he could reach back and remember what had happened to him. But he couldn't, and each time he tried, it felt as if his skull were splitting. If luck was with him, the emperor hadn't learned of his so-called 'inspection', but he couldn't count on that. If Tarzah had contacted him, Palpatine would know he was back on Coruscant, which meant he was running out of time. How much time he had, Benan didn't have a clue. Seconds, minutes, hours perhaps. But no more than that.

He entered one of the multiple lifts which carried beings below, and with his peripheral vision spied a pair of helmeted males who entered another lift two over from his. There wasn't anything really suspicious about them. They looked like the average lowers dweller. It was just a feeling he had.

He selected to stop at level 200, quickly hid himself behind a barrier and waited. Soon, the same pair stepped out and began looking about. They were obviously looking for him. The emperor had a long arm and spies in every nook and cranny. Benan had suspected as much, he'd just never experienced it for himself.

To have enough time to do what he needed to, he must dispose of the two thugs following him. More of that goodness the emperor had tried so hard to get out of him took over though, and he only wished to disarm them and knock them out for a while. He had to be careful. Where Palpatine's cronies lacked intelligence, they made up for in fire power. With focused effort, he used the Force to knock over a pile of rusty buckets nearby. Then, he took advantage of the distraction and withdrew his weapon, spun it around and hit the first one on the back of the head with the hilt. The second one noticed his friend was incapacitated and withdrew his blaster, but Benan was too quick, and rushed him, twirling around the attacker's body, and applied a sleeper hold.

"Easy," Benan told him. "Take it easy."

The longer he held on, the less the stranger struggled, until finally, he went limp in Benan's arms. Once he had the being lying on the floor, Benan took the opportunity to remove the helmet. Just as he had suspected. This was one of Amedda's henchmen.

Benan realized whatever amount of time he'd had was just cut in half. As soon as the bodies were discovered, Palpatine went send down more. Probably many more. The old man didn't like to lose.

Benan hastened his steps to get back into the lift and reach the level he knew Yoda was on.

The narrow tunnel was within sight when a familiar figure emerged. Padmé looked surprised to see him. He was surprised as well. He had hoped to avoid her. It wasn't that he didn't want to speak with her. He had plenty to say; it was just he didn't have the time. Not right now.

"You're back."

She looked unsettled and nervous. He wanted to ease her discomfort, but there were more important things on his list. "I need to speak to Master Yoda."

"Of course," Padmé immediately replied, stepping to the side to allow him passage.

Hurriedly, he entered into the dark cavern and faced the ancient Jedi.

"I did what you suggested, and can hardly believe what I witnessed."

"Have a seat you should."

"There were bodies lining the corridor. Nothing but charred skeletons! Most of them were Jedi. But the younglings..." Benan placed his hand over his mouth. He was too disturbed to describe what he'd seen. "The emperor lied to me. They weren't undergoing rehab and relocation. They'd been murdered!"

"Obi-Wan…"

"It made me sick!"

A forceful rap of a walking cane against the floor grabbed his attention.

"Sit."

"Yes, sir."

"Aware I am, of the atrocities of the Emperor."

"I guess I'm one of them," Benan pointed out. "I believe you. Tell me. What kind of Jedi was I?"

"Unsure at first, but a quick learner, you were. Loyal, eager to please. An excellent swordsman as well."

Benan listened attentively to the Jedi Master, but couldn't help but notice his head was beginning to ache. "What happened? How did I go from being a Jedi to the son of Palpatine?"

Yoda called forth a datareader to his hand, which he passed across to Benan. "Difficult this may to be watch, but help you, I will. Suspect, we do, abducted during this battle, you were."

The young man activated the device and watched with great interest as an intense battle took place. However, he didn't appear to be involved. There was a red and black skinned warrior and another man wearing Jedi attire fighting it out. The lightsaber battle continued for a while, but it was obvious the older man was getting tired. He dropped his guard and paid the ultimate price. It was then Benan realized a younger figure was waiting behind an energy gate. The poor soul had been forced to watch as his mentor lay dying. No, not mentor. Master. The name of the older man was on the tip of his tongue, but his brain refused to provide the information. And the echo of what sounded like his own voice crying out in agony pierced his brain and aggravated the headache which had been gradually building as soon as he sat down. It was becoming more difficult to view the recording, but he did his best, watching as the battle intensified even further, ultimately leading to a standoff. Suddenly, the tattooed warrior backed off and came rushing at his opponent, slamming into him and sending them both careening into a pit. The recording stopped after that.

"Declared dead, you were."

"Wait…" Benan argued. He knew something. This wasn't right. "There was..." he tried to say. "When I fell…" The pain was increasing to the point he couldn't think at all, and finally, it hampered his eyesight. But he had to get this out. "Darth Maul and I….we landed…" When he said the name, a spike of energy like a lightning bolt fired inside his mind and then everything went black.


	12. Chapter 12

**Ashes of Our Fathers:** Chapter Twelve

* * *

It was difficult to stand outside when she didn't know what was going on. Padme hadn't expected to see Obi-Wan again, but his sudden appearance had renewed her hope. She paced outside of Yoda's cavern nervously, her troubling thoughts interrupted by news even more disturbing.

Over years of taking care of those in desperate need, she had managed to make some friends. One of them, a cute little Iktochian with the biggest green eyes, was heading her way. She was excited and out of breath when she arrived, but her message was clear. There were stormtroopers below.

She had no choice now but to barge in.

"Master Yoda!" Padme exclaimed upon entry only to find both the occupants of the cavern were unconscious. She first rushed to the ancient Jedi and felt for his vitals. Unsure of his biological makeup, she first tried his wrist but without any luck. Then she felt his neck. Still nothing. Finally, she leaned down to listen for a heartbeat.

"Alive, I am still," the Jedi Master croaked and strained to sit himself upright. Padme assisted him. "Check on Obi-Wan, you should."

Padme quickly did as suggested and rushed to the other side of the cavern. Obi-Wan was in a seated position, but he was out like a glowlight. His wrist demonstrated a strong pulse and his breathing was normal. She tried speaking to him and patted his hand.

"Obi-Wan, wake up. It's me, Padme. I need your help. We're in trouble." She smiled with realization. "When are we not? You and I are quite the pair aren't we? Trouble always seems to follow us around."

"It should," came forth a tired voice. "We're good people."

Padme released a deep sigh and shook her head with relief. "You scared me. What happened?"

"I'll let Master Yoda explain that." Obi-Wan declared. "I'm not sure I can myself."

All eyes were focused on the old Master who had seated himself back upon his dirty, green cushion. "A powerful suggestion, repressing your memories, it was. From the dark side, it originated. Planted in your mind, it was. Any attempt to access those memories, a painful deterrence it created."

"Palpatine," Obi-Wan named the one responsible.

Padme chimed in. "Did you remove it?"

"Only one way to find out, there is."

The attention shifted to Obi-Wan, who steeled his resolve and began to shift through the accumulations of essentially two different lives and two identities. He began to focus on a time before he was known as 'Benan,' and had been called 'Obi-Wan.'

"Darth Maul," he began; "when he grabbed hold of me, we fell into the melting pit, but there was a net below waiting for us. Like it had all been planned. Before I realized what was happening, a bolt of Force lightning struck me and knocked me out. I'm not sure how much time passed after that. A couple of years, I guess. Most of it was agonizing. Very painful, but not a physical pain. It was mental. It was all in my head, and a constant voice was feeding me information about who I was, where I came from, and what my duty would be."

"Torture-based mind control, he used," Master Yoda explained. "Pain. A powerful tool it can be"

"That must've been awful." Padme had seated herself next to Obi-Wan and reached for his hand to show her support. "I'm so sorry you went through that."

"The pain, gone now it is?"

Obi-Wan performed a self-check, realizing that indeed, he had shared his history without any repercussions. He grinned wide with relief. "Yes. Thank you, Master Yoda."

"So, you're cured? And you're back to your old self?"

"Old self? I doubt I'll ever be that again. Too much has happened, but if you're asking if I'm Obi-Wan again, then yes. Let me assure you that I am."

Padme smiled with joy. She was so pleased she wanted to hug Obi-Wan tight, but Dorme appeared, and her presence reminded Padme – there was a reason she had come inside.

"What is this? A knitting circle? Are you three aware there are several hundred stormtoopers moving through the Lowers right now?"

Oh yeah, recalled Padme. That's what it was. "We've got to get you two out of here."

Obi-Wan was sluggish, but he got to his feet. "That may be more difficult than you think. They should be halfway down by now."

"What makes you say that?" Padme questioned him.

Obi-Wan grimaced. "Because Level 200 is where I left the bodies."

"What bodies?" Dorme broke into the conversation.

Obi-Wan answered the question, but kept his eyes on the Jedi Master. "There were two of Palpatine's men following me when I came down. I disposed of them."

"Oh, this is great…" Dorme moaned.

Suddenly, a thundering vibration shook the cavern, sending dust down upon their heads.

"How did they know Yoda was here?" Padme asked, hoping she was wrong. If, indeed, Obi-Wan had revealed the Jedi Master's location, she wasn't sure she could ever forgive him. She had to say it: "Did you tell the emperor?"

Usually, a question like that from her would've caused him grief, but Obi-Wan realized that before Yoda's assistance, he wasn't himself. In fact, as Benan, there were many things he'd done which he was now ashamed of.

"Rest assured, I didn't," he promised. "My feeling is that they're after me."

"Then we've got to go!" Dorme pleaded.

"Better to stay," Yoda argued.

"Stay?" Dorme shot back. "Here? Where there's one way in and one way out? We'd be trapped! And what's going to stop them from marching right down that tunnel and killing us, or just tossing a grenade or two in and see what happens?"

Dorme had a point, Padme reasoned, although she'd made it with far too much emotion. It was her turn to add some reason. "Dorme's correct. When confronted by an enemy, you should always make sure you have an alternate escape route."

"I'm more concerned with the way in," Obi-Wan added. "There's no way to defend ourselves in here, unless we pile the bodies up high enough where it at least slows them down."

Master Yoda had yet to say anything, but when he did, it was to reveal a plan no one would've probably considered. "A pile up, hm? A good idea, that is."

With an outstretch of his claw, the entry corridor groaned and then gave way. Rocks, dirt, and debris soon filled the space, essentially blocking their only escape.

* * *

A/N: Sorry! You know how much I LOVE cliffhangers! ;D.


	13. Chapter 13

**Ashes of Our Fathers**: Chapter Thirteen

* * *

The dust was beginning to clear. Padmé waved what remained away from her face, while Dormé made the most of the situation and started coughing. Loudly.

"Why did you do that? Now, we're stuck in here! And do I need to mention I'm a bit claustrophobic?"

Her friend had always been outspoken, which was one of the reasons Padmé liked her so much, although sometimes it got her into trouble.

Luckily, the two Jedi didn't seemed affected by her complaining. Yoda hadn't even moved from his meditation cushion and his eyes were closed. Obi-Wan, as well, was quite calm. He knew the ancient Jedi better than anyone, and she trusted Obi-Wan. Therefore, Padmé figured the wisest thing to do was to wait.

She tried to calm down her friend first. "Perhaps you should rest, Dormé. Just take a seat and relax. I'm sure we'll come up with something."

"Relax? How can I relax? Our friends are out there and who knows what's happening? We should be helping them!"

Padmé placed her hands on either side of the young woman's face and met her gaze. "I hear what you're saying, but we can't risk leaving. Two women and two Jedi can't fight an army of soldiers. We have to protect them and ourselves to secure the future of the Republic. Don't you agree?"

The distraught young woman's mouth gaped open, but then shut. Then opened again. At least she was thinking first before she spoke. "I'll relax, but I'm not going to sleep."

"That's a good idea," Padmé agreed with a smile before returning to Obi-Wan who was still seated against the wall.

"And now, we wait?"

Obi-Wan smiled and nodded in agreement. "Master Yoda usually has a reason for everything he does."

That confidence and his overall relaxed attitude was enough to help Padmé relax as well, although she was still troubled. She didn't want to admit it, but she was worried. Charla, Anin, Tofa-Lan; all the inhabitants of 487 she had grown close to may be in jeopardy. She couldn't help but ask about their fate.

"How far do you think Palpatine will go to find you?"

"To Hell and back again," was Obi-Wan's reply, which was less than comforting. "Which is why I'll need to leave as soon as possible. I've got to speak with the emperor and try to convince him to back off."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Padmé felt inclined to argue. They just now got Obi-Wan back and she had no intention of letting him disappear again; or worse. "If he's going to go to these extremes to find you, then he knows something. He obviously doesn't trust you."

"I think I can fix that. At least I've got to try."

There was no stopping him. She understood that, although it was difficult. Padmé had always been gifted with empathy, not just for her acquaintances, but for the entire galaxy. Her feelings, where Obi-Wan was concerned, however, went a little bit deeper. Did he know? Should she tell him? It seemed selfish, but if she didn't, Padmé realized she would regret it; especially if something happened to him.

"What's that noise?" Obi-Wan abruptly wondered aloud.

Padmé listened intently and smiled when she recognized the sound. "Dormé snores sometimes," she informed him.

"Oh," he chuckled.

There was a long moment of listening to nothing but heavy breathing and distant rumbles which sounded like thunder before he spoke again. "I'm sorry,"

His words were unexpected. He was the victim here. "What for?" she had to ask.

"For putting your friends' lives in danger. For putting you in danger. I can't help but think this is all my fault. If only I had realized…"

"There's no way you could've," Padmé interrupted him, placing her hand back on his. This time, however, Obi-Wan rotated his and intertwined their fingers. The touch of his skin upon hers caused a blush to radiate up her neck. She had to clear her throat before she spoke again. "You were coerced. You can't blame yourself, so don't go thinking self-sacrifice is going to make you feel better. In fact, that would only make it worse; especially, for me."

"Is that so?"

Padmé forced her gaze away from the mesmerizing and erotic way his thumb was caressing her hand and met his gaze. He was toying with her. She could tell by his lopsided grin. But this may be her only chance.

"Yes it is," she replied, the seriousness of her tone changing his expression. "I do care a lot about the friends I've made down here, but I also care about you. In a different way, of course," she stammered. "I mean, I consider you a friend. I always have, but I was hoping….I mean, when this is all over, I was thinking that maybe…What I'm trying to say is…"

The more she spoke, the more her tongue got twisted until she finally just gave up and sighed, fluttering a lock of hair which had come loose and was lying across her face.

She lost her breath completely when Obi-Wan tucked the stray hair behind her ear and smiled. "Padmé," he said in such a way that caused flutters in her stomach. They increased tenfold when he leaned towards her. Good heavens! Was he going to kiss her?

"You've got dust all over your face," he whispered.

Her face contorted in a combination of disappointment and surprise, which he must've thought comical, because he chuckled.

"I care about you too," he said in a voice that was husky and low.

An overjoyed smile spread across her face; one which Dormé couldn't even erase.

"You two should get a room," her grumpy friend announced while stretching.

"Sounds like a plan," Obi-Wan stated, withdrawing and leaning back onto the wall. "As soon as the stormtroopers have cleared out, I'm going back up. Padmé, I'll need your help."


	14. Chapter 14

**Ashes of Our Fathers: **Chapter Fourteen

* * *

There had been a storm just beyond the collapsed corridor, and it had everyone on edge. Things were much quieter now, and the noises of destruction were once again distant.

"We need to wait a little longer."

"For what?" Dormé questioned Obi-Wan's authority. "It's not like we're getting out of here any time soon. It's going to take hours to move all that rock. The entire structure is probably unstable now thanks to Master Yoda. Who knows if there won't be another cave in if we start trying to clear it."

"Clearing the path, not necessary that is."

Obi-Wan had learned long ago it was best to wait when dealing with Master Yoda, but even he was struggling. "Do you know of another way out?"

"Of course I do," a mischievous grin appeared. "Your friend," Yoda continued, directing his attention to Padmé, "patience she needs to acquire."

With another wave of his claw, a stack of crates leaning against a far wall shifted and slid, revealing a doorway.

"You know," Dormé pointed out with exasperation, "you could've said something."

"Missed all the fun, we would have," Yoda replied before hopping off his cushion and hobbling toward the doorway. "Stay with me, you should. Much to learn, you have."

"Hold on," Dormé complained, following after Yoda anyway. "My job is to protect Padmé. I'm not leaving her."

"Beyond this door," Yoda explained, his mood becoming sober, "are many. Hurt, they may be. Need your help, they do. Obi-Wan and Padmé, another destiny awaits, but young lady, with me, you will stay."

With eyes wide and her mouth agape, Dormé spun around to Padmé. What could she say?

"It will be good for you," Padmé told her friend quietly. "Take care of our friends, and try not to worry. Obi-Wan will protect me."

"Confront the emperor, you will?" Master Yoda asked Obi-Wan, who had joined them near the doorway.

"In a way. I'm still figuring out what to say, but I know what I need to do. Padmé was correct. He doesn't trust me. He never has, really. I've spent the last ten years with him and it's all been a lie. The feeling is quite mutual. I do know that he has a lot of very powerful and wealthy friends; those who will simply replace him with someone as equally wicked. Our only option is to get them all in the same place at the same time and eliminate them. As soon as I make an appearance in the palace, I'll be watched; closely. That's where Padmé comes in."

"She can't risk being recognized," Dormé was quick to point out.

Obi-Wan acknowledged the comment. An alive Padmé, a former queen who had opposed the empire, had been known to take a stand for the Jedi and the Republic would pose a possible threat to his tyrannical reign. "I have an idea on how to fix that, but first - Master Yoda, I need to borrow a few things from you."

* * *

As they ventured up to street level, Padmé had pulled the hood of her tunic over her head, but she was going to need more than this. When she was Queen of Naboo, she had made a few enemies, and Palpatine, being from her home planet, would recognize her immediately. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. She had faith in Obi-Wan, but there were questions that needed answers.

"Exactly what are we supposed to be doing?" she asked as he guided her along by the hand. Yoda's doorway had led to a deserted section of the Lowers with a barely functioning service lift. A couple of times during their ascent, Obi-Wan actually had to fiddle with the wiring to get it running again, but it eventually carried them up to a rusted ramp which led to the sunlit streets of Galactic City.

"First," he replied, observing their surroundings in every direction, "I need to find a secure location where I can hide you."

"Hide me?" Padmé pulled hard on his hand to stop his advance up the ramp. If he thought for a second that she was going to stand by and do nothing but hide, he had another thing coming!

"It's just temporary," he reassured her. "I've got some shopping to do."

A suspicious brow rose high on her forehead. "Obi-Wan, you're not making any sense."

"I know, but you'll just have to…"

"I do trust you," Padmé interrupted, "but I need to know what your plan is."

"You're right. I'm going to ask the emperor to throw a party. I believe, the death of the last Jedi deserves a celebration, don't you?"

An interesting idea, except for one problem. "And I'm going to attend? How am I supposed to do that?" Padmé asked.

"Ever been to a masquerade party? You're already pretty good at disguises. It took me days to figure out that you were the actual queen." His gray eyes sparkled with mischief.

Padmé smiled along with the memory, but was still concerned. "You're not talking about cosmetics, are you?"

"I'll buy something appropriate, don't worry, and one of those big gowns you used to wear."

It had been years since she'd tried something like that on. Her wardrobe nowadays consisted of a couple of tunics and a single pair of leggings and boots.

"You'll look lovely in it, not that you don't look lovely now."

"Yeah, right," Padmé scoffed, which only caused an expression of astonishment to appear on his face; one which was quickly replaced by determination as he drew unexpectedly but pleasurably close.

"Allow me to convince you."

He pressed his lips to hers and she tiptoed up to meet him. She had never kissed a man with a mustache before and found it quite tantalizing. Or maybe it was just Obi-Wan.

It didn't last nearly long enough, but they didn't have the time anyway.

Obi-Wan withdrew, immediately turning his head to check on a noise they'd just heard above. It was apparently nothing to be concerned about and he turned back to her. "Convinced yet?"

"Maybe," Padmé teased, stretching the word out. "Although I could use some more persuasion."

"Later," he promised with a grin. "Let's head up."

Once they had arrived up top, Obi-Wan grasped hold of her hand again and turned left, leading them down a walkway to a crossing. There was a lot of traffic overhead and on street level, so Padmé ducked her head deep inside her hood. Finally, they were able to cross, and he took her into a tall spiral shaped building a few blocks away.

"Benan Palpatine!" a mixed race Fallen standing behind a counter addressed him, her voice seductive, her large bosom barely contained inside her tight blouse. "It's been a while. I was beginning to think you'd left the system, or gotten married or something."

"Zasnen, it's good to see you again. I'll take my usual room."

Padmé kept her head covered, but couldn't help and notice the way the receptionist looked at her, as if she were some homeless, diseased urchin.

"If you're really that desperate, Benan," her voice purred into Obi-Wan's ear, "I know some lovely females who would happily show you a good time."

"I'm sure you do," Obi-Wan replied, playing along. "One of these days I may take you up on that offer." He reached deeply into his pocket, withdrew a few hard credits and tossed them on the counter. "Just for the afternoon."

"Sure thing, love."


	15. Chapter 15

**Ashes of Our Fathers: ** Chapter Fifteen

* * *

The rented room was spacious enough and it was clean. Typical for a modest city inn. A large bed, nightstand, dresser, and decent refresher made up the space. Looking at it, suddenly, Padme realized just how filthy she actually was. Fresh water down below was a rare commodity. Most of what they saved was runoff from above, which had to be sanitized before use. Once in a while a pipe below would burst due to erosion; its contents quickly gathered by the inhabitants before city workers came down to fix it. Honestly, she was looking forward to the luxury of soaking in a hot tub.

"You all set?" Obi-Wan asked her, once he had checked out every nook and cranny to ensure it was safe.

"Yes, I can't wait to get cleaned up." The idea bloomed a smile of relief on her face as she sat down upon the bed.

"While you're doing that, I'm going to talk to the emperor and convince him to throw this party. If he agrees, I'll stop by one of my favorite clothing stores and buy what we'll need. You should be fine while I'm gone, just don't go out."

His warning wasn't necessary, but it got her wondering. Is this what it would be like to be part of Obi-Wan's life? To be constantly worried about, taken care of, and made to feel safe and secure?

Her smile blossomed again. Wouldn't that be wonderful?

"I don't plan on it," she assured him. "But Obi-Wan?"

His brows rose expectantly.

"Please be careful."

"I will."

He gazed at her for a moment, but Padme couldn't read his thoughts. Then, he smiled at her and left.

Once he was gone, she engaged the security controls for the door and ecstatically ran to the 'fresher, stripping off her dirty clothing along the way.

* * *

It was his home once. Entering it now after being rid of the painful distraction in his brain, Obi-Wan felt like a stranger. He'd made memories here. Suddenly, it seemed as if they were those from someone else's life.

"Tolan," he acknowledged one of the security officers he passed, receiving a curt nod in reply. He knew them all. And they didn't even know his name.

The emperor was in conference with Amedda and a couple of leaders Obi-Wan recognized as being from the Banking Clan. He imagined some type of illegal and highly immoral deal was going down. Regardless, he entered and strode up to the large, marble table.

"Benan, there you are." Palpatine displayed a shallow grin before dismissing his company, leaving the two of them alone.

Obi-Wan wasn't going to bring up the fact Stormtroopers had done extensive damage to the Lowers while looking for him. Nor, was he going to discuss the fact that the emperor was an absolute monster. He had to remain aloof and calm. This may prove to be the most difficult thing he'd ever done. Obi-Wan had to remind himself more than once that lopping the man's head off would accomplish very little.

"Tell me of your findings," the older man finally asked once he determined Obi-Wan wasn't going to offer up any information on his own.

"I have good news, father," the younger man began, the title tasting bitter on his tongue. "I found Master Yoda. Or should I say, I found his grave."

"Is that so?"

The emperor obviously didn't believe him. Which was fine. All he had to do was get him to agree with his plan.

"It was on Tatooine; out in the flats," he continued anyway. "The locals claimed that he'd gotten sick and died from complications of dehydration and pneumonia."

"Are you certain?"

Obi-Wan revealed a half-smile of confidence and withdrew an object from his cloak, dropping it and allowing it to rattle and rock before settling upon the table.

"That was Master Yoda's personal walking stick if you were wondering. He always had it with him. Check it out."

Palpatine did as he suggested, the older man's eyes narrowing in doubt and discernment.

"Indeed." The emperor stated after examining the cane for a long while and laying it back down.

His face didn't reveal any type of emotion and Obi-Wan didn't know what he was thinking. Did the emperor believe him? Or was his life in danger? He worried until an oily smile began wrinkling up the man's pale skin.

"Then congratulations are in order. I shall have another statue erected in your name. Finally, the Jedi are no more."

"I have a better idea." Obi-Wan dared leaned closer, onto the table. He needed to eliminate any suspicion. "Let's truly celebrate. Let's throw a party. Tonight! Invite all your associates. This is a big deal! It's what we've been waiting for! Wait, I have a better idea…" he tried to look as if the thought had just occurred to him. "A masquerade ball! We haven't had one of those in ages. No statues required. Just do this, and that's all I ask. Besides, I need to meet some new people."

Palpatine chuckled. "My boy, you do have some talent with the ladies. Consider it done. A masquerade ball in the palace, tonight at 0900, in honor of my son, Benan Palpatine; the Savior of Justice.

As Obi-Wan left the palace, he carried his shoulders a bit higher, although his mood remained cautious. Step one was a success, but he still couldn't shake the bad feeling he had.


	16. Chapter 16

**Ashes of Our Fathers: **Chapter Sixteen

* * *

Her skin was starting to pucker, and the bath was starting to cool. It would've been far more enjoyable were it not for worrying about Obi-Wan's success. He'd been gone a while. Did the emperor believe him? If he hadn't, she feared for Obi-Wan's life.

It did little good to allow these thoughts to occupy her mind, and Padme forced herself to be more positive; as well as get out of the soothing bath. As soon as she had dried herself off, a rhythmic chime sounded from the door. Thank the heavens she silently and quickly prayed. He was back.

Now that she was clean, there was no way, Padme was going to put her dirty clothing back on. Instead, she wrapped her naked body tightly with a towel and stepped out.

Obi-Wan was struggling with two large packages, which she helped him place upon the bed.

"Tha…"

The partial word seemed lost as he took in her appearance.

"Thanks," he tried again, turning his focus upon revealing what he'd brought back. "I think I got your size right, and I hope you like the color."

What he had bought her was a beautiful midnight blue gown with a diamond overlay that cascaded across a sleeveless bodice in a scattered pattern which led downward toward a wide skirt. It looked like a starlit nebula in the deepest of space.

"And let's not forget this."

From inside a smaller package, he withdrew a satiny mask, adorned with more diamonds and feathers of a matching hue that swept over the brow and down one side. It was nice, but Padme's eyes were immediately drawn back to the gorgeous gown and she gingerly reached out to caress the silky material.

"Obi-Wan, it's lovely. It's been so long…I don't know…"

He seemed touched by her inability to express herself and took her hand in his. "I'm pleased you like it. I tell you what. You try it on, and I'll go in and clean up myself."

Padme agreed, but was still a little speechless. She put her hands back on the gown while Obi-Wan walked away, chuckling to himself.

When he emerged from the 'fresher, he found her studying her reflection in the dressing mirror.

"This must've cost you a fortune," she uttered, craning her neck to view the back.

"Don't worry about it. I charged it all to the palace."

He had tentatively stepped up behind her, smiling, and it had taken a moment for Padme to notice he wasn't wearing anything. Not even a towel.

"The party won't begin for several hours," he told her calmly, although she could sense a tremor in his voice. "I was thinking…"

"That's too long to sit around in this dress. I might wrinkle it," she interjected, feeling a blush rise to her face.

"Allow me." Obi-Wan's breath was warm against her bare neck as his fingers began to deftly undo the numerous buttons down the back of the gown.

With each release, Padme's heart rate increased incrementally. By the time the bodice was loosened, she thought her heart was going to jump out of her chest. She spun slowly, meeting his gaze as she allowed the dress to drift down her skin and puddle upon the floor. So much for wrinkles, but at the moment, she really didn't care.

"Forgive me," he began; an apology which nearly stopped her heart altogether.

Was he changing his mind? Did she find him too thin? Too young? What?

"I'm afraid my experiences as 'Benan' may have clouded my judgment. I realize I may be too forward, but I want you, Padme. I've never wanted someone so badly in my life."

He was holding her back, with pressure of his hands against her shoulders, when all she wanted to do was hold him tightly against her, to feel him on top of her, inside her. Out of the nowhere, however, came a nagging thought. It was unwelcome, but it needed to be dealt with. "What Zasnen said…you've been with many I presume?"

He studied her for a moment, still holding her away. His self control far exceeded her own. "Yes," he replied honestly. "Does that bother you?"

Did it? A little, if she were being truthful with herself. Her own experiences were limited, but Padme had a feeling this was different. It had to be. Once again, she would put her trust in this Jedi.

"Yes," she admitted, quickly explaining after he seemed distraught, "unless you promise me something."

"Anything," he replied, relaxing his hold and sliding his hands slowly to her bare back.

"Promise me I'll be the last."

His smile came on as gradually as he drew her in. Before he answered, he pulled her tightly against him, a groan vibrating inside his chest. "If I promised you that right now, you may think I'm caught up in the moment. Just know that as soon as I can, I'll do something better. I want you in my life, Padme. Now and always."

Padme wasn't sure she could find her voice. Somehow, he always managed to give her more than she expected. More than she had thought possible. She studied him closely, and finally his willpower broke. He took her gently, then fiercely; claiming her for his own.


	17. Chapter 17

**Ashes of Our Fathers: **Chapter Seventeen

* * *

Obi-Wan had requested one of his father's private transports, wishing to arrive at the palace in style. Anyone watching him would expect nothing less. After it pulled up, he helped Padme out of the vehicle and escorted her inside. Everything was glittering and festive, and every room crowded with delegates, important business owners, clan and guild leaders, and even some of the galaxy's more notorious crime lords. It was difficult to believe he had actually pulled this off, and would consider himself lucky were it not for the continuing nagging in his heart.

"Benan," a stout and heavily armed guard named Davin stepped in front of him at the entrance to the ballroom. "Before proceeding inside, all weapons must be checked and handed over for safekeeping."

This was new.

"Of course," he replied nonchalantly. "Is my father expecting trouble this evening?"

"I'm just following orders, sir."

"Indeed." Obi-Wan reached for his lightsaber and handed it to the guard, as well as a blaster he had grown fond of and a vibroblade he kept tucked inside his boot. "That's all of it," he told the man.

"And you, miss?"

Obi-Wan interrupted, worried about how far Davin was going to go with this. If he insisted on a search, they were in trouble.

"I assure you, she's harmless. And what could she hide in that dress anyway?" Obi-Wan joked and leaned forward in confidence, lowering his voice. "It cost me a fortune, but then, so did she. These high-end pleasure workers don't come cheap, let me tell you!"

"Don't I know it," the guard agreed before clearing his throat and remembering his duty. "You may enter."

"I have a bad feeling about this," Padme expressed once they were inside.

"Now, don't allow your fear take control. Just follow the plan."

"I'm still a little foggy about this plan. Would you mind sharing some of the details?" Padme smiled at anyone who acknowledged her presence, relieved no one seemed to recognize her. She double checked the mask to make sure it was secure.

"Let's head over to the bar and I'll explain along the way."

The drink he had ordered was strong and she only sipped at it, needing to keep a clear head. Obi-Wan, however, was gulping his.

"I thought Jedi weren't allowed to drink," she whispered to him.

"This stuff? It's for babies. Besides, my metabolism burns it right up. Don't worry about it. We need to fit in and this is how I used to party." Just then, Obi-Wan smiled at someone across the room and raised his glass. Padme searched the crowd and saw the face of the emperor, who had raised his own in return. She immediately turned her head.

"I see," Padme replied, casting him a worried glance.

"How are the guests doing?"

By guests, she assumed he meant the six thermal detonators she had strapped to her outer thighs; three on each side. Now, she understood why the skirt of the gown he had bought was so wide. "Uncomfortable," she admitted.

"I hope you can manage to dance with them, because that's what we're about to do."

"You've got to be kidding."

He closed the distance between them, placing his mouth to her ear. If the situation was any different, Padme would take advantage of it. What needed to be said, however, needed to be said privately.

"Follow my lead. There's a popular dance nowadays called the Clapping Waltz. I'll request it and then we'll join with the others. Every few measures, the dancers will stop and perform all these crazy clapping patterns. While that's happening, I'll use the Force to remove one of the detonators. As soon as it drops between your feet, kick it toward the wall. It will have to be done quickly before the music begins again. We'll have six opportunities and need to plant them around the main support beams."

"What about the emperor?"

"What? Would you rather dance with him?" Obi-Wan teased, pulling back to gaze down at her.

"Funny." Padme replied sarcastically. "I mean, won't he be watching us?"

"Not really. This is his favorite dance. We do it every year on his birthday. He always participates."

The plan wasn't foolproof, but it was the best one they had. If it worked, the entire palace should be destroyed. One detonator would probably have been enough, but after everything Palpatine had put Obi-Wan through, she didn't blame him for the overkill.

He led her out onto the dance floor, requested she wait, and then went to speak with the band. She did so, although quite nervously. While watching him speak with the leader, Padme felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to face the emperor, himself. Her throat immediately dried up and her eyes widened with surprise.

"I don't believe we've met," the older man stated while extending his hand, his voice not as charming as he probably imagined,

Padme took it, squeezed gently, and curtsied low. "Good evening your Imperial Majesty."

"Good evening to you. I noticed you arrived with my son. And what might your name be?"

Frantically, Padme's mind raced, and the first female name it provided was the one she spat out. "Zasnen. I work at the Galactic Park Hotel. That's where I met Benan."

"I see," Palpatine answered, studying her face. His gaze was intense and Padme became more and more apprehensive the longer he stared at her. Thank the heavens, Obi-Wan had returned.

"Father, I have a surprise for you. You'd better grab a dance partner, and no, you can't have mine." And away he swept her, just as the lively music began to play.

"That was close," Padme told him as they began to twirl. "I was sure he recognized me."

"He probably did. In fact, I'm sure he knows more than I've given him credit for." Obi-Wan pointed out, his eyes darting about the room.

Padme followed his line of sight and noticed that most of the guests were participating in the dance. Other than that, she didn't see anything troubling. "What do you mean?"

"Look at the exits," he prompted as he spun her round.

She did so, and indeed noticed that the security personnel had at least tripled in number since their arrival. There were even a few stormtroopers now present.

"I don't believe he expects to let us leave here alive. And he's not even out on the floor. I should've known better," Obi-Wan's tone had shifted from hopeful to resentful. "I shouldn't have brought you here and endangered your life."

"Hey," Padme drew his attention back to her as he pulled her back into his arms, "let's just stick with the plan. It will work. Trust me."

Slowly, a grin revealed itself as they swept towards the outer wall. "I love you, you know."

What a better time to confess his feelings other than a moment before their likely demise? Perfect timing, Kenobi. "I love you, too."

His giddiness turned somber as his eyes fixed over her head. "We're coming to our first stop. Follow my lead and don't forget to kick it out of the way. Try not to look too obvious."

Right. Perform a dance she didn't know, allow a bomb to drop between her legs, kick it to the wall and not look obvious about it?

This was never going to work!


	18. Chapter 18

**Ashes of Our Fathers: **Chapter Eighteen

* * *

They were halfway finished with their task and the music was still playing. Three detonation devices had been put into place with three to go. Padmé was gaining confidence with each stop and was even beginning to learn the clapping patterns when suddenly, the music ceased and all eyes turned to the bandstand. In its center stood the well dressed figure of Emperor Palpatine.

Obi-Wan was immediately in her ear. "Something is definitely going on."

"Forgive me my friends," the emperor explained, "but I request your indulgence. I would like to thank all of you for coming to celebrate the end of the Jedi Order." The man paused to allow the crowd to respond, which they did with thunderous applause; a sound which sickened Padmé.

"And for that, we may thank my son, Benan Palpatine. Before you congratulate him, however, let me inform you that not only has he discovered the location of the last Jedi, he has brought to us yet another traitor. This young woman dares to enter our peaceful sanctuary when she is a know terrorist and traitor to the Empire! My friends, allow me to introduce Padmé Amidala, former Queen of Naboo."

With a hand directing them, every guest in the room turned to glare at her.

"This can't be good," she mumbled.

"Get ready to run on my mark. Straight back through the double doors," Obi-Wan directed her from behind just as Padmé noticed more stormtroopers had just arrived.

The Emperor's voice dropped an octave and took on a villainous tone. "Guards, seize her!"

Security began to move forward, and still Obi-Wan held tightly onto her elbow.

A half dozen of the emperor's red-robed special forces filed in to join them. What was he waiting for?

"Uhm," Padmé nervously spoke out the side of her mouth. "Any time now would be fine."

"Get ready," he prompted her, sliding his arm around her waist.

"For what?

The words had barely left her when time decelerated. In his other hand, Obi-Wan held the remote and as he simultaneously activated it, he jumped backward. She was flying over the panicking crowd and surprised guards. Fire and debris mushroomed out from one corner of the room sending the guests running for the doors and screaming in a chaotic flurry.

Obi-Wan's feet landed closer to their destination as he exploded another device. And then the third. By that time, he had backed her into the kitchens as the ballroom burned.

"Do you think he's dead?"

No sooner than she had asked the question, a roar erupted amidst the flames and smoke. Someone was yelling out the name of Kenobi, and he wasn't very happy.

"That answers your question. Over there," he directed her attention," is a chute which dumps all the garbage to the Lowers. I want you in it."

Not a horrible idea except for the dress. Her beautiful dress!

"Hand me the rest of the detonators. Quickly!"

Padmé did as she was told and placed them in his hand. Meanwhile, she could see the fire prevention system was still functional, as well as many of the guards who were heading their way.

"Get in the chute and don't look back."

No. This wasn't the way it was supposed to happen. "You're coming with me."

His gaze was filled with tender emotion for her, but also a firm determination to fulfill his duty. "Not until I complete this mission."

Together they rushed to the wall where Padmé opened a pair of polished durasteel doors, revealing a steep, dark incline and a rancid odor.

As she was getting in, one of the red armored guards stepped up. His suit was charred, and he was limping, but his pike was working and he swung it toward Obi-Wan's head. The attack was avoided, but a fight ensued. Padmé used the time to crawl into the chute, keeping her footing on the narrow ledge which led to the drop off. She silently cheered Obi-Wan onto victory, realizing it would be short-lived.

Through the smoke, foam, and haze, she could see a dark shadow approaching the doorway. Her gut told her to let go, but she couldn't leave Obi-Wan behind!

"Toss it and let's go!" She begged him.

Detonators in hand, he quickly handed Padmé the remote. "If I don't make it back, finish the job."

She was about to argue, when an energy force similar to a bolt of lightning struck Obi-Wan from behind, rendering him incapacitated. She didn't even have to look to discover its source. Immediately she recalled the stories Obi-Wan had shared of the torture this man had put him through. Well, she wouldn't allow it to happen again!

Knowing the pain it would cause, Padmé reached out and grabbed hold of Obi-Wan's arms. The decision resulted in an excruciating spasm that rocked her body from head to toe, but she wouldn't let go. She couldn't! She managed to pry the belt holding the detonators from his hand as the energy bolts continued to strike him, now accompanied by an evil cackling laugher which was coming from the Emperor. The sound and the fact he was apparently enjoying himself infuriated Padmé and she tossed the belt into the room, yelling out in anguish and adrenaline as she pulled Obi-Wan with all her might, setting their course plummeting into the depths of the Lowers.

Once inside, there was no stopping their descent, but at least Obi-Wan had regained his faculties and shouted a command.

"Blow it!"

She activated the remaining devices which shook the foundations surrounding the chute. As a result, it also created a flash fire which was now chasing after them.

"Obi-Wan!" She shouted at him.

"I know! Grab hold of my feet and don't look back!"

Faster they flew until Padmé imagined a touch of the Force must've been used. She didn't mention it, but she was hoping he'd do the same thing later to slow them down.

"We should be approaching the Lowers now! Our first stop will be anywhere a filter has been opened! But there's no guarantee what level that will be!" She craned her neck to look back at him, but he was too focused on what may lie ahead to acknowledge her. The fact most of his long hair had been singed off, she kept to herself.

Their landing happened quickly and roughly, and before Padmé realized what had happened, she was rolling down a large pile of garbage, and coming to a stop on a rusted durasteel floor.

They'd made it! She never thought the place would look so welcoming.

Joyously relieved, she reached for Obi-Wan's hand and felt him grab hold of it tightly. They both lay still, staring up at the ceiling and counting their blessings until a small face appeared overhead.

It was a very young Twi-Lek Padmé didn't recognize, and she had a question, although not for them.

"Momma? Can we eat them?"


	19. Chapter 19

**Ashes of Our Fathers: **Epilogue

* * *

Their focus at first was on assisting those Below. Obi-Wan managed to help secure not only their homes, but their trust as well. Very few lives had actually been lost during the attack, and most of the injuries were minor.

Now that life in the Lowers had returned to normal, their focus could be on Above.

Dormé and Master Yoda joined them as they surveyed the damage Obi-Wan and Padmé had caused. The palace lay in ruins, and news of the death of the Emperor and many of his allies had spread quickly throughout the galaxy.

They must act just as quickly, before someone else with evil intentions claimed the vacancy of power.

"I've contacted former senators Mothma and Organa and they are going to assist me in re-establishing the Senate. We will need to gather anyone else available, and nominate a Supreme Chancellor soon."

"For that office, you should run." Master Yoda pointed out.

"No, I don't think so," Padme argued. She had never imagined herself in such a position, but then, she had never imagined herself falling in love with a Jedi either!

"You would be great at it," Obi-Wan agreed. "You have my support."

"Thank you," Padmé replied, leaning into Obi-Wan's embrace.

"And mine too," Dormé added. "I think I'd make a great Senator's Assistant."

"You would," Padmé agreed. As long as she kept the young woman busy, she decided silently. An active Dormé is a less troublesome Dormé.

"While you're doing that, I need to start establishing contact with any Force sensitives that are left. We need to rebuild the Jedi."

"Where will your base be?" Padmé asked mostly out of curiosity, although she was hoping the answer would be Coruscant. She wasn't quite ready to let Obi-Wan run off.

"Here," Master Yoda replied quite emphatically, thumping his walking stick for further emphasis. "On these ashes we will build our new Temple."

"On these ashes…" Obi-Wan murmured.

Padme smiled up at him. "What was that?"

"Just something I read once," he replied, a statement which caused Padmé to raise a brow, telling him she deserved a better answer. She was correct. She deserved everything he could ever give her.

He smiled, and completed his recitation. "To every man upon this earth, death cometh soon or late; And how can man die better, than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers, and the temples of his gods."

/End! :)

* * *

A/N: I still consider myself being in a "warm-up" phase after my long absence. I haven't quite regained 100% of my confidence, but I'll keep trying! Next story is "Lessons in Love," and it should be a bit lighter. BIG thanks to anyone who left a review for this story. You are a huge help in regaining that confidence. Hope to see you at the next party!


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